I Just Want You

Leaving Harry was shit.

We didn’t have like, a crazy, intense moment or anything. We said goodbye in our Indianapolis hotel room, where he kissed me passionately and swore to me that his heart belonged to me. He then pulled one of his silver rings off and handed it to me, saying, “I’ll see you in Pittsburgh, Little One.”

And that was that.

Luckily, I went right from the airport to the shop and spent my time tattooing people: butterflies, chick’s names (bad idea, dude), a really, really sweet tangle of roses and thorns, and the usual mishmash of generic flash and well thought out copies from the internet. Whatever. A girl’s got to make a living.

By the time I got back to my apartment on Saturday night, it was close to one in the morning. The city was still bright but Rob was sleeping. He’d left a note on my pillow: Welcome home; sassafras. If you wake me up, I’m going to put super glue in your tampons. Thx! 

Witty bastard. Always so hilarious.

I shook my hair down from the messy bun I’d thrown it up in at the shop and slunk to my bedroom, setting my back pack on the floor. I’d do laundry later. Maybe I’d make a grilled cheese sandwich later too; damn, that actually sounded pretty delish.

My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket. I snagged it out and glanced at it, immediately smiling. It was Harry.

“Hey handsome.”

“’Ello sweet love.” I could hear the smile on his lips as he spoke. “How was your night?”

“Long. I got to the shop at one-thirty and tattooed until like, quarter after midnight. The last guy’s piece was like, his eighth session on this enormous back piece. I wasn’t making him come in for a ninth.”

“My bed feels extra cold tonight.” His voice was soft and raspy, like he was trying extra hard to be quiet. “I need you in it with me.”

“I know I’ll sleep much better tomorrow night with you than I will tonight.” I paused. “Aren’t you on a tour bus or something?”

“Yeah, but Liam doesn’t want to cuddle.”

I giggled. “Well, good.”

“Are you wearing my ring?”

“Absolutely. I put it on a chain around my neck so I don’t lose it. It’s too big for my fingers—not that I’m surprised, since your fingers are amazing. And you do amazing things with them, as a side note.”

“Mmmm, baby girl.” He chuckled. “You should talk dirty to me.”

“If you have Wi-Fi on that bus, I’ll prop my phone up and you can watch me take a shower.”

I heard the raspy groan in his throat and he sighed deeply; I could almost picture him running his hand through is long hair. “Sweet love, you should have stayed with me.”

“My rent is due in five days, Haz, a girl has to get her hustle on or else the landlord gets pissy.” I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, trying to work out a knot that had formed from tattooing in the same position for too long. “I’m lucky the last dude was a big tipper.”

“I’d have paid your rent, baby.”

“Shut up, you will not.”

He sighed again, but I could hear the smile on his lips. “I miss you, Kenz. I somehow survived ten years without you and now I can hardly stand a few hours away from you.”

“But later today, technically, we’ll be in Pittsburgh. I’ve never been to Pittsburgh, so this is all quite exciting.” I paused, clutching his ring in my hand. “Is Pittsburgh exciting?”

“It will be when you’re there with me. I have the flight information to send you. You’ll actually get in before me, so you can just hang out in the room until I get there. You know, take your clothes off an all.”

“Get ready for more naughty pictures you mean?”

“Absolutely. What do you think I’ve been looking at since you left?”

“Okay, twist my arm: I watched the dirty video we made probably twenty times on the plane. I probably broke some kind of FAA rule or something. And then, the guy next to me was watching ‘American Sniper,’ which I’ve never seen, so I was occasionally sitting there, listening to us having sex, and watching ‘American Sniper.’” I had to stop and take a breath because I was giggling. “And the dude totally knew it, too. He kept moving his iPad more and more so I couldn’t see.”

He was laughing; an infectious, sweet laugh. “Oh, sweet love. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Hazza. Leaving you was a bitter reminder of how boring my life is without you.”

“What all did you do today? Just work?”

“Pretty much. Though, when I left the shop, I had a voicemail from some of my friends. It’s Saturday night, so of course they’re all out singing karaoke. They left me a message of them singing ‘Call Me Maybe’ and then demanding to know why I’m so lame.”

He laughed again. “Do you sing karaoke, baby girl?”

“No, actually I drink and watch other people sing karaoke. Do you remember that little tape recorder/microphone thing we had as kids?” I laughed. “Now, that was karaoke.”

“You sang Spice Girls all the time."

“Don’t pretend you didn’t, Hazza.”

He laughed again and then suddenly grew very quiet. “This is how it will be, Little One. Us apart, just talking on the phone and wanting each other….but….ehm, not getting to be together. I want you to understand exactly what you’re getting into…uh…with me. I don’t want to break your heart, love, when I can’t be there to hold you.”

“I know, Hazza.” Like I had to think about it or something. “And I don’t care about any of that. I’m in love with you: Harry Edward Styles. My best friend. The best lover I’ve ever had, let’s be honest. I miss your smile and those dimples and, of course, your arms around me. But hearing your voice? It makes me feel better already. I know I’m yours and that’s what matters.”

“Oh, baby girl.” His sigh sounded shaky. “How did I get so lucky?”

“You let me cheat off your spelling tests from Year Four to Year Six. I mean, that’s not the only reason that I love you, but it was a foundation.”

He laughed again; it brought a smile to my face. We’d only been back together for a handful of days, but already I’d seen how much being “on” all the time, as “Mr. Harry Styles of One Direction,” wore him out. He got tired of being mobbed all the time. He hated answering the same questions over and over again. He just wanted to be himself and do what he wanted, when he wanted, without anyone telling him no. “I’m going to keep you forever, Kenzie. I hope you know that.”

“Good. Because I’m not letting you go either.”

****

The flight to Pittsburgh from New York City was like, an hour. I felt like I waited longer in the line for security and for people to board the stupid plane than I actually did inflight. I texted Rob when I left the apartment, just to let him know I was spending two days with friends but would see him Tuesday. It technically wasn’t a lie. I was going to hang out with a friend. I was just going to fuck him and kiss him and roll around naked with him for forty-eight hours or so.

Details.

The Pittsburgh International Airport was weird and apparently under mass construction, as I felt like I was walking through Detroit or something to get back to the terminal, which wasn’t the terminal, but a holding area to board a train to the main terminal. But hey, I’m a New York City girl these days: challenge me, airport. I’ll take your train and your bus line and I’ll get to downtown Pittsburgh in record time.

And I did.

The hotel the boys were staying at was almost directly across from the stadium, Heinz Field, and right next to a really cool looking park with an enormous fountain at the intersection of three rivers. Harry wouldn’t be in town for another three hours, so I strolled into the hotel with limited fear.

Okay, Kenz. You’ve done this before.

I smiled at the man behind the front desk, awkwardly shifting my backpack to my other shoulder. “Hi, I’m here to check in? I’m not sure what the reservation is under, but I’m Mackenzie Shively.”

The man behind the desk nodded, turning his attention to his computer. “You’re here with a group?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Do you have identification? Passport, driver’s license?”

I dug my driver’s license out of my wallet and handed it to him. Okay, Wyndham Pittsburgh, not quite as classy as the American Club had been. No wine? No smiles and ‘excellent choices?’ It almost made me giggle. Two secret rendezvous with Harry and I’d already become this hotel connoisseur. Like I was going to see anything other than the bed and Harry’s naked body.

The man handed me a key card in a thin, paper booklet and pointed me in the direction of the elevators. I walked with purpose: three hours until he got here, so that meant three hours I could go sketch by the fountain. Sweet.

The floor we were on was, as I expected, completely deserted. I found this to be a little terrifying, as I’d seen The Shining far too many times to get excited at the thrill of having a whole hotel floor to myself. Our room was Room 524, which once I found, I managed to get the door open and fling myself inside.

Safe.

It looked like any other hotel room, but in front of a large mirror was a vase stuffed with two dozen red roses. I dumped my back pack on the floor. They were stunning.

A small white card was positioned in front of the vase. I picked it up and opened it.

I never guessed I’d fall so in love with you. You are my world, sweet love. I can’t wait to see you! x H.

My face felt like it was going to split apart from smiling so broadly. This boy.

I shimmied out of my jean shorts and bra, leaving on my black, silky panties and tight white tank top, and then flopped down on the bed. It was so quiet and comfortable. I worked nonstop at home to pay my bills and not live in a slum. So this? This was nice….

….I jolted upward into a sitting position and grabbed my cell. Apparently it was too nice—I’d slept for three hours.

“Jesus.” I ran my fingers through my hair and then stretched my arms up over my head, arching from side to side. I was borderline elderly these days. Early morning flight, three hour nap. It was a downward spiral from raves until 2am, drugs, alcohol and anonymous sex of my college days to naps, yoga, and vitamins now that I was a tax paying, dual citizen of the US.

And secretly sleeping with Harry Styles.

I almost giggled as I retrieved my book and a sketchpad from my backpack. I’d done a lot of growing up since I was 19. Somehow being a college dropout had worked in my favor: I had bills to pay and responsibilities and a job I worked 60 plus hours a week. Of course, after as much sex as I’d had over the past week, I felt far less stressed and overwhelmed as I did before.

I flipped through my sketchbook to a blank sheet of paper and first glanced at the next big tattoo project penciled in my book: a side piece of a crane and lotus flowers. Sweet. I first started sketching the bird, occasionally referring to pictures online for more detail.

Of course, each time I picked up my cell phone, my fingers strayed to the photos I had saved of me and Harry: most were just us laughing and posing for adorable (occasionally ridiculous) selfies, but there was an entire series of erotic, dirty pictures we’d taken after we got naked and drank two bottles of champagne. My cheeks reddened just looking at them, my pulse throbbing between my legs. We went crazy on each other and I didn’t even give what he wanted a second thought: I trusted him; possibly more than anyone else in my life. Except maybe Marcus.

Ooooops. Probably should text Marcus at some point to let him know I was still alive.

I heard a light knock on the door, followed by that deep, sexy voice: “Hey, baby girl?”

“I’m in here, handsome.”

And then there he was: his long hair twisted up into a bun on the back of his head and dressed in his black skinny jeans and a gray t-shirt. He set his leather duffle on the floor next to my back pack and sank down on the bed beside me, running his hand up the back of my thigh and curving up my ass. “Weeeell, hello sweet love.”

I rolled onto my back and smiled up at him; he lowered himself on top of me and kissed my lips. “I’m getting better and checking into random hotels to meet you. I was only overcome by awkwardness from the elevator to the room, and that was only because I panicked I was about to get murdered by a ghost or something from a horror movie. Classy as always.”

He laughed and then kissed me deeply. “You wore your septum ring.”

“Cella is terrified of it.” I tilted my head back as he gently touched his fingertip to the dainty silver ring through my septum. “I take it out when I visit them.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not now, no. It’s totally healed.”

He took the opportunity to dip his head down and kiss my neck. “I think it’s sexy.”

“I went through a huge piercing phase in my life, but I took most of them out. I mean, other than what’s left in my ears, my septum, and the two in my belly button.” I adjusted underneath him so I could wrap one leg around his, resting my foot against the back of his calf. “Until like, last year, I had my eyebrow, my lip, and my nipples pierced.”

“No way.” He tugged my shirt up over my breasts and started examining my nipples. “Where? I can’t tell.”

I started laughing. “Well, no, I mean the rings were here.”

“Here?” He pinched both with his fingertips; the feeling radiated straight to my low abdomen.

“No, no, like here.”

He dipped his head down, planting a kiss on each nipple. “Here?”

“Well, no, more to the side.” I sucked him a sharp breath. “That may have been a little more robust than the situation called for.”

He burst out laughing and slid his arms around me, simultaneously rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him. “Can you stay with me until Tuesday morning?”

“I have to be at the shop at noon, but yeah. It’s a short flight.”

“Because, I was thinking. We’re in New Jersey on Wednesday and…I dunno, maybe we could stay together that night. Then there’s a show in Baltimore on Saturday. I don’t have to actually be in Baltimore until Saturday…so…”

“You can stay at my place if you want, in between the show in Jersey and being down in Baltimore.”

“Or I can take you to a hotel and pamper you.”

I pulled my tank top off the rest of the way and tossed if off the bed. His eyes looked over my body, from my collar bones to my breasts to my bolt through my belly button and the two dermal piercings above it. “That’s up to you. I can’t touch my bank account for three more days until my half of the rent check clears.”

“No, I want to spoil you. I’m thinking three nights at the Plaza.”

“The Plaza?” I raised my eyebrows, sliding his tshirt up to touch his butterfly tattoo. “That’s…well, I’ve walked past the Plaza. One time I walked through the lobby on a dare.”

“Well, you’re going to stay there with me.” He ran his hands up and down my waist, cradling my body with his large hands. “And we are going to have a fantastic time.”

“I don’t need fancy hotels to have a fantastic time with you, Hazza. Just being with you is enough.”

He hooked his finger through his silver ring I wore as a necklace and gently pulled me forward to him, until our lips touched. “I love you, Kenzie.”

“And I love you, Hazza.”

“You should know, sweet love, that the other lads are massively jealous that you’re mine. The collective opinion is that I should have given you the opportunity to consider a relationship with one of them before taking you for myself.”

“For arguments sake, I did. I was like, ‘aaaaaaand, nope’ and decided I wanted to be with you.” I searched his eyes. “I can read you like a book. There’s something else.”

He chuckled, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve known you since we were kids, Hazza. You’re making the same face you made when you killed my goldfish and didn’t want to tell me.”

“Baby, I swear, I had nothing to do with that fish’s death. I put him properly in the bowl while I cleaned his tank and he just jumped out. I’m sure he would have been fine,” He snorted, probably a failed attempt to cover his laugher, “if I hadn’t then…ehm…stepped on him.”

“Honestly, Harry, that fish was like our child. You’re the one who one him for me.”

“Only because Marcus dumped the fish he won you down the drain.”

“Don’t even get me started on Marcus and his inability to care for small pets. Like the time he ‘accidentally’ let Aunt Jane’s bird outside and then proceeded to be surprised when it didn’t come home? My god, it amazes me every day that he’s raised a child.” I paused. “You’ve changed the subject. Well played, Styles. Well played.”

He burst out laughing and wrapped his arms tightly around my body. “It’s nothing bad, Little One, it’s just offensive to me because it’s intrusive. Management…” he trailed off. The last night we were together, as we laid naked in each other’s arms, he confided how much he hated his management’s control over his life.

“Let me guess. They took one look at me and said, ‘oh hell no.’”

“I wouldn’t have let them say that about you, beautiful. They wanted me to post a picture of the three of us—you, me, and Marcus—on Instagram so people think we’re just friends. You and I.” He looked embarrassed; disgusted at what he’d just said. Worse yet his eyes looked hurt, as if he’d somehow offended me by this confession.

“But they didn’t explicitly say we couldn’t be together?”

“No. My private life is private, even from them. If I kept things between us quiet, it’s only because I want to protect you from fans and the paparazzi. Social media, though, they pretty much tell me what to post. I have my own private profiles, of course, which is what I gave you.”

“Scandalous.” I ran my tongue across my bottom lip suggestively. “Well, unless it turns out you posted a picture of me where I look like I’m making a derp face or where Marcus looks like the hotter twin, it’s no big deal.”

“And I showed Liam a dirty picture.”

“Again, well played.”

He laughed and fished his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through pictures for several moments. “This is the one I showed him.”

I barely remembered him taking the picture, but I recognized the bed from our room at The American Club. My hair was piled up on top of my head in a funky, super-fast up do I’d done for our ‘dinner date’ (which was just room service) and I was only wearing lacy, black panties. He’d taken the picture from behind but there was nothing dirty about it: it was hella sexy, with my curves and the angel wing tattoos. I was just barely turned to one side so that my profile was evident—but no side boob—and my eyes were downcast, my lips parted in a broad smile.

He grinned shyly. “I love this one.”

“I don’t actually remember you taking it.”

“I didn’t think you’d noticed, but that’s my favorite part about it. You’re just so beautiful, natural and laughing and…I don’t know.” He exhaled deeply and switched over to Instagram. “This is the picture of all of us.”

It was one of the pictures from the night of the concert: Harry was leaning towards me, his hand around my waist, and his other arm draped casually over Marcus’s shoulder. It was captioned, “I get by with a little help from my friends.”

I glanced at him. “Okay, well, as far as salacious goes, Haz, that’s far from it. I mean, I’m not overly excited how my hair looks, so I probably won’t do that again, but overall I look pretty.”

“You’re a knock out.” He pulled the phone back and tapped his fingers against the face, pulling up something else. “But the problem is, sweet love, that always turns into this.”

It was an article on E! Online: Harry Styles meets up with childhood friends in Kansas City! I quickly scanned the article: surprisingly accurate information about me and Marcus (no mention of Cella) and how we knew Harry. It was….well, definitely weird. Case in point: Mackenzie and Marcus were childhood chums with Harry, but moved away over a decade ago. Sources say that the three had a pleasant chat before the long haired lothario performed in Kansas City.

“Okay, so, there’s a creepiness factor to it, I’ll give you that.” I shrugged. “But, it’s not this huge deal. I think Marcus looks like he has chicken legs in that picture, which is hilarious, and I’m retaining my title as the hot twin. A+ for that.”

He smiled broadly, but it melted away quickly. “This is how the media ruins everything. I want this to be between us, to be special.”

“It is.” I pried the phone out of his hand and set it, along with my tattoo work, onto the floor. “Forget about all that shit. I don’t care about it; I care about you. And, right now, I’m only in my panties and you’re completely dressed. If anything is a problem, it’s that.”

He chuckled. “Are you trying to take advantage of me, Mackenzie Mae?”

“Take advantage sounds so….harsh.” I scooted off him and crawled backwards; he scrambled after me, yanking his shirt over his head. “May I remind you, Hazza, that you’re three months older than me. So, if anyone is being taken advantage of, it’s me. Because I’m so young and sweet and innocent.”

He eased his jeans down his hips and his legs; he was already hard and it was a damn distraction from playing coy. As the saying goes, men with big hands and big feet have big dicks. Harry did not disappoint in this department. “You are naughty and cheeky and dirty…and so, so incredibly sexy.” He pushed me up against the headboard, dipping his head down to kiss my shoulder and neck. “But you are definitely not innocent.”

I giggled softly, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him against me. “Well…maybe not completely innocent.”

“I’m a massive fan of your lack of innocence.” He trailed his kisses down to my collar bone. “Mmmmm….sweet love, I wanted to make love to you after the show. Come back all pumped up and wild and then go crazy with you.”

“I find it hard to stick with a plan like that when we’re already naked.”

“Possibly.” He moved his kiss up to my mouth, sliding his hands into my hair and anchoring me in place. “You could just touch yourself and I can watch.”

I slid my hands between us, caressing his erection with my fingertips. He sucked in a sharp breath; I pressed my lips to his. “Or we could play together.”

“I’d rather be inside you.”

“Then do it.” I touched my forehead to his, again leaning forward and again kissing him. “Hazza…don’t make me beg.”

“Beg?” He laughed, pulling me into his arms and down onto the mattress. Sliding his hands down my arms, he pulled my hands above my head, pinning me in place. Nudging my legs apart with his knee, he slid his cock inside me and then just as quickly slid back out. “Mmm….Kenzie, you never have to beg for anything with me. I’ll give you everything you want.”

I wrapped my legs around his hips and arched upwards, trying to urge him to fuck me. “I just want you, Hazza. Always.”

He let go of my wrists and dropped his hands to my face, crushing his lips against mine. As he kissed me, he met his hips to mine and slid his cock inside me. We were both silent for several seconds, consumed by the initial surge of pleasure, and then he cradled my face, staring into my eyes. “Kenzie, love, I am yours. Emotionally, sexually, all of it. I’m never going to let you go.”

Notes

He's a dirty boy, but I love him ;)